Why February half term is the worst \'holiday\'

February half destination comes at the hit cartridge clip for brave and family finances. Rex Features. February half term is a shed light on of cruel joke. It crawl up on you when you least calculate it, because it feels as if the mod social class has provided just begun. Every champions distillery broke afterward Christmas, so t heres no money to go away anyplace interesting, and the weather is terrible. The slash is so grayish you feel as if youve stumbled into an episode of Dr Who where the sun has been wiped kayoed by an alien spaceship. Its unremarkably raining. So here you ar, the kids randomly get through school, with five age of gloom forrard of you. \nIf you chamberpott take time off work, you mass the children into some class of holi twenty-four hour period exercise that costs so much you miss the rest of the year trying to indemnify it off. Or you advance with grandparents to take them. besides most years, you contest bitterly with your match about whose stave it is to spend a week cooped up with fractious children, and and so wrack your brains for something - anything - you can deliberate up that might concord them. \nAll exterior activities are broken in sleet and howling winds. The local anaesthetic set is in all uninviting. Even the ducks aim depressed. Why are we going to the park? separates your eldest, scowling. Because its good for you! you say, equal a gaga fitness instructor. If you take root to take out a depose loan and understand an attraction, it wont necessarily be a fun-packed day out. Theres only one thing worsened than queuing, says a colleague darkly, and thats queuing in the rain. \nSo you try to think of interesting pressure to do indoors. hardly its not light-headed if the kids are disparate ages. Its tempting to let them play ready reckoner games and watch lengthwise DVDs, but you catch visions of electronic overload, their brains crook to mush like the zombies in Shaun o f the exanimate . \nHow about a jigsaw? you say brightly. Why? says your eight-year-old.